Nobody's Watching
by Desdemona Kakalose
Summary: Who are you when no one is watching? What are you when when the cameras turn away? .one shot. very minor hints of LxLight. One chapter for L, and one for Light.
1. Light, Forbidden

**Even a strong person has weak moments. It's inevitable. The most we can do is run into the rain and hope no one sees the tears. one shot. very minor hints of LxLight, small enough you can ignore them. Light centric**

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Light kept a lot of secrets.

Having long since mastered the art of hiding his thoughts, there wasn't a person on earth who could read him—not then…

Somewhere in his childhood, he heard one of the makeup drenched, self-pitying emotion mongerers bite out a sentence scarily cogent. Nothing long or poetic, but a stark, mind-blowingly simple sentence that forever etched itself into his mind.

"I like walking in the rain, because no one can see I'm crying".

It struck him then that his whole life was spent hiding from the world, hiding in plain sight. Like a weeping child who flees into a storm to hide his shame from prying eyes.

There was no room for him to be Light. The boy was an admirable student, a dutiful son and a caring brother. Where did just-plain-_Light_ fit into that mish-mash? He knew, in his heart of hearts, that there were things he was, but could not be. It was infuriating that he, who was so much more intelligent and clear minded, was forced to bow to the will of such simple people.

Fools.

The next rain, he snuck out the door and stood straight and proud in the silver barrage… and cried.

The tears were hot and hateful, and so, so good. It became almost a ritual, a catharsis.

He wondered sometimes if there were others like him. Others who knew they were better, who knew they saw what others didn't, who knew that there was no room for their true character. And they stood like him in the rain, letting the burning tear-drops mix with silky cold water.

Not likely.

None of his friends knew about these storms, no, they didn't know anything. Light wouldn't have called them friends if there were anything else to call them.

But there they were, because he was _so_ good-looking, and _so_ popular.  
It sickened him.

The saying went "All the girls want to date Yagami, and some of the boys too!"

It was those times that he wondered if maybe, just maybe, these cretins knew more than he gave them credit for…

But no.

People are ignorant and vile and not-as-good-as-Light. That's just the way it is. In all his life, there was only one person who didn't fit Light's view of the world, who could see when Light didn't mean a word he said, who actually _thought_ about problems instead of screaming complaints into the wind.

And he hated the man for it.

There was a time, during that brief stint of innocence, when it became startlingly clear how well his detective understood.

There had been a groove in the bathroom door, through which a chain could be pulled, that allowed Light his small amount of privacy. He was only allowed two minutes, but oh, how he loved them.

So much in fact, that he would run far over the time limit. His partner was forced to slip inside the door and wait for the suspect to complete his meticulous rituals.

On that occasion, the suspect set his brush down and inspected his hair, while the opposite man crouched on the counter beside him. Absently, the private eye gnawed his thumbnail, eyeing his only friend with a growing look of smugness.

Finally, able to stand it no longer, Light turned to the man and raised an eyebrow, waiting. Ryuzaki's expression lifted into something only Light would recognize as a smile and mused:

"Light-kun has many responsibilities… always so busy with his various rolls… I wonder, what would Light be like, left to his own devices? Surely there are things he _cannot_, but would _like to_ be…"

L saw the widening eyes, and felt the waves of disturbed mentality radiating from the boy. So he'd hit on a sore subject... No matter what his suspect said, there were the signs.

Light managed to play it off with his long practiced acting abilities, but…

Oh yes, even from himself, Light kept secrets…

But it's not hard to recognize your own, now is it?

FIN

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Un-beta-ed.  
Can you tell what it's hinting at? I bet you can. You're smart.

700 words... This is that drabble I've been working on... when I should've been doing my ass-load of math homework.

Damn.

But here it is, and I want lots of critique...

Love for the reviews.


	2. L, the Lie and A Truth

**The Truth and A lie**

**Two L centric drabbles, to complement the Light centric one. 200 words each.**

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_A Truth, _or _Word play_

L loved to throw people off.

It was probably his favorite thing to do, next to cramming his gullet with pounds of sugary, over-processed junk food.

He had found, over the years, that it was immensely gratifying to turn the truth into a lie, and the lie back into truth. It'd gotten him into a couple tricky fixes, and the down side was that having to explain it positively ruined his fun.

Oh, but how delightful to see the question in their eyes.

Once, he'd mentioned how much he'd LOVE for his name to really _be_ L...

And was it his fault if they jumped to conclusions? Can't a man like his own name?

_he never said it wasn't._

So was it any surprise that when Misa accused him of hanging out on the other side of the proverbial fence, he never denied it?

He said, "I'm not doing this for my own benefit."

And he wasn't, really.

That was just a bonus.

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_The Lie, _or_ 1000 Reasons_

L didn't join the Kira case so he could put a stop to evil.

He told people this, but then again, he was an accomplished liar.

There were a thousand reasons, actually, and few of them were what you wanted the adoring multitudes to hear.

The first reason was built on the same logic that creates turf war in third world countries. L was justice. He was L. He always won. When someone else (_Kira_) tried to be Justice, they tried to _win_...

And as every child knows, there can only be one winner.

The second reason was sheer, unadulterated curiosity. Who would dare usurp the throne of The World's Greatest Detective? That title scrawled on his old notebooks, dating back to the eighties and before?

And lastly, _despite_ being something of a misanthrope, his need for order in everything (including society) had led him to protect it.

All in all, the detective business wasn't turning out to be as exciting as he'd hoped. Maybe this nutcase with God on his side could afford some entertainment?

Or danger. Danger was good.

But the more he learned, the more worried he became. This business with the police was _his_ responsibility, and now there was a new problem.

L realized that this psychopath, this murderous bastard, was almost the same as him.

If he'd gotten a hold of that power long ago... before he'd hashed out his list of Do's and Don'ts... he'd likely have done something similar. Scarily similar.

And he wondered, with some apprehension, how easily he would cave if he came face to face with the convicted maniac. How little would it take to convince him?

Pray it never happened.


End file.
